


What Fresh Hel Can This Be?

by xxxRIPLEYxxx



Series: Travels of a Space Viking [1]
Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, BDSM, Blood As Lube, Blood and Torture, Dom Loki, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Orgasm, Happy(?)-ish Ending, Loki is a goddam mess, Loki/Geralt of Rivia slow burn, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Endgame 2012 Loki, Psychological Torture, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sub Loki (Marvel), The Tesseract (Marvel), Whump, loki/loki - Freeform, unwilling sub loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 04:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20002558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxRIPLEYxxx/pseuds/xxxRIPLEYxxx
Summary: Loki meets an insane and far more powerful other Loki, who puts him through as much pain and torture as he’s ever endured. It’s a puzzle with only one solution and Loki’s having a hard time finding the answer before it costs him his life.





	What Fresh Hel Can This Be?

**Author's Note:**

> Geralt is not actually in this first part, but you’ll understand why Loki’s in the shape he is when they meet in the next one. It’s a little rough for him. 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at xxxripleyxxx.tumblr.com. I don't post a lot, but I'm always happy to talk about Loki.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Loki of course grabbed the Tesseract while the ridiculous mortals were scrambling around trying to recapture it, and jetted away with it. Now, with the madness of the Mind Stone fading away, he thought about just how angry Thanos was going to be. It didn’t matter. After what the Mad Titan had put him through, he would never let Thanos take him a second time. He was a survivor and did not want to die, but he  _would_ die  before he allowed himself to be broken ever again, so he shoved Thanos out of his mind.

As he did so, he realized he was still surrounded by blackness. Traveling between Realms usually involved some degree of “nothingness,” but this was new. It felt more like a dark room. There was a floor, ceiling, walls, and a mirror in which he saw his face reflected. But, as he reached out a hand to touch, his reflection’s hand shot forward, locked around his wrist and twisted, forcing him down to the floor. Having been caught by surprise by someone whose strength equaled his own, or possibly surpassed it, he had no choice but to comply.

“What’s the matter, little god? Wondering what you’re doing here? Don’t worry. It will all become clear soon.”

The voice sounded like his, but had a deeper, more ominous tone—a little cruel, perhaps. He tried to will himself away with the Tesseract, but there was no response. He looked up into the hard, narrow green eyes looming over him and a shiver snaked down his spine. The face was his, but more harsh, the lines etched deep around eyes and mouth and he looked at least ten years older than Loki. He tried to form a fireball in his palm, but nothing happened. Something or someone was dampening his power.

The figure stepped forward and in the blackness Loki saw that he wore a short black tunic over black leather pants, made even blacker by contrast to the pale skin. He snapped his fingers, smiled, and Loki was naked with a collar around his neck, a heavy chain about two meters long connecting him to the floor. Panic began to well up in his mind. How could he have done that to him so easily? There simply weren’t very many mages more powerful than he was, but apparently his twin’s abilities far surpassed his own.

“Who are you and why am I here?”

He worked to keep his voice steady, but wasn’t at all certain he succeeded.

A heavy black boot slammed into his shoulder with enough power to knock him flat onto his back, accompanied by a deep, throaty chuckle that sent fear spiking through him again. The black figure was standing over him, his own pale face laughing down at him, the boot pinning him to the floor and grinding into his chest.

“Ah, Loki. You think you know what cruelty is, but you don’t. Not really. You’ll never understand its depths until you know it in your own heart. Thanos put you through the worst you’d ever faced, but you’ll soon learn there’s much worse.”

He didn’t imagine there could be much worse than what Thanos had put him through, and he breathed a small sigh of relief that this was not the Titan. He could weather anything else—anything—and the fear inside him was replaced with anger as he spat his words at the man holding him down.

“You dishonorable bilgesnipe bastard. You’re nothing but a poor imitation of me. You think you’re strong? Cruelty is not strength. Do what you will. Nothing and no one can break me, now.”

“I think we’ve heard quite enough from you for now.”

The dark figure grabbed him by the hair, yanking him up to his knees and pulling his head painfully far backwards, so far he thought his neck might snap. He opened his mouth to protest and a ball of leather was shoved into it. The hand in his hair forced him back to the floor, face-down, and buckled a strap behind his head. Then, the boot stepped down onto his ass, pushing his bare pelvis into the floor with crushing force.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

When Loki didn’t respond with either movement or sound, The Other leaned down and wrapped a hand around his throat. It was big enough to nearly encircle it, and the hand began to squeeze steadily until Loki couldn’t breathe, but he refused to give in and did not move his hands behind him. The blackness of the room began to close in until his mind went blank and he passed out.

When he woke, his hands were tied behind his back and his ankles were strapped to a length of wood, shoulder-width apart. He was still face-down on the floor and gagged. 

“Ah, there you are. Wouldn’t want you to miss this part. This is my personal favorite.”

Loki heard a faint “whoosh” through the air, and something hard and thin connected with his shoulders. He would have screamed if he’d been able to, but with the gag in his mouth, all that came out was a high-pitched, loud grunt. A second later, another one landed in the middle of his back, and he knew then it was a cane or a riding crop. He was able to stifle his groan somewhat, but the sting and the heat from the lines it made burned like fire. He knew he’d be bleeding soon, if this continued.

And, continue it did. One blow after another landed on the small of his back, then his ass, then his thighs. From there, the pattern repeated, starting again on his shoulders, until he’d been through three rounds of it. By the time it was over, he had not cried out again, but there were tears flowing freely onto the floor under him. He was thankful he’d had the leather to bite down onto.

Hands undid the buckle behind his head and yanked the gag out of his mouth.

“Anything you want to say now, Loki?”

“Why? Why are doing this? Who are you, really?” His voice sounded stronger than he’d expected, considering.

“You’re usually more clever than this. Frankly, I’m a little disappointed.”

“When have you allowed me time to  _think_ ? It’s been nothing but abuse and pain since I arrived here, you sadistic son-of-a-bitch. And, while I’m at it, where is  _here_ , anyway?”

Two hands reached under him and easily flipped him over onto his back, and he clenched his teeth at the pain from his back rubbing against the unforgiving floor. The man in black stepped between his legs, and fear spiked through him again, knowing he was completely vulnerable and could not even close his legs. But, the Evil Loki just looked down at him and smiled.

“You do look delicious all trussed up for me like this. I can’t decide whether to have you suck my dick or make you come. Do you have a preference?”

“If you try to make me suck your dick, I promise I’ll bite it off.”

“All right, then. Come, it is.”

He squatted between Loki’s legs and pointedly waited for Loki to make eye contact.

“No, no, please _don’t do this._ ” 

His voice was raspy, his throat dry, and his double just laughed—a feral grin that was all teeth.

“What’s the matter, little god, afraid your own body might betray you? Well, don’t waste any energy worrying. It already has.”

With that, he extended his open palm in front of Loki’s face and said “Spit.”

“I—I can’t. I have no spit. I’m completely dry.”

“Oh, I doubt you’re completely dry. We’ll see shortly, won’t we?”

He spat into his own palm and reached down for Loki’s cock, while his other hand touched two fingers to Loki’s forehead.

“Just let go. You know what you like, and so do I.”

Loki was acutely aware that he had been semi-erect since the cane had left its marks. Now, it traitorously responded to the rough hand around it, growing harder with every stroke up and down. He tried to bite back the orgasm building inside him, but he couldn’t fight his own body—not for long, anyway. He tried to concentrate on the pain emanating from his back and how his own weight was crushing his bound arms under him, trying to use those thoughts to stop himself, but it was no use. Evil Loki’s hands knew every move, every trick, every possible way to force him to come.

One hand held the base of his ever-hardening cock while the other moved in a twisting motion across the shaft and head. It would occasionally run a thumb across his slit to gather pre-cum and use it to slick the head even more. Evil Loki knew his body as well as he did, but he tried desperately to hang on—to not give the Other the satisfaction.

Breathless and panting, his mind whited out, his body convulsed, and he came hard; but, he also partially succeeded in biting back any sounds of pleasure, at least, and that made him feel a little better. His twin wiped his cum-covered hand on Loki’s face like a napkin and stood up, then turned and walked away, leaving him covered in his own warm puddles. As the man disappeared into the blackness, he spoke softly over his shoulder.

“I’ll leave you alone to think now. That’s what you wanted, yes?”

*****

Loki lay still in the darkness, ashamed and angry at himself for his lack of self-control. He had played such games before, but they were games in which he was a willing participant, not a prisoner, and the humiliation of it was enough to make his stomach turn. He was thirsty, his back hurt, his hands hurt, his ankles hurt, and he was utterly confused. He could last a week or more without water and he would heal quickly if left alone for awhile. He assumed Evil Loki knew those things, too, and would act accordingly, so he didn’t expect to have much time to himself. He at least managed to turn over onto his stomach, alleviating some of the pain.

Did he pass out when he used the Tesseract and this was his subconscious screwing with him? Possible, but the physical pain was real. The drying streaks of cum on his face seemed real enough, as did the blood on the floor. The other Loki seemed to think it should be easy for him to figure out, and maybe that was the key. If he figured out what was happening, would it be over?

He had no sense of the passage of time, but it seemed like a long time and the wounds on his back were not healing—not at the rate they were supposed to, anyway. Had even that been taken from him—his innate constitutional abilities that were not related to magic? If so, he would probably die of thirst in a day or two, and never have the chance to solve the riddle. He was exhausted, so he decided to try to sleep and see if that helped clear his mind.

****

“Ready for round two?”

The voice woke him from a sound sleep. After a moment of disorientation, he remembered where he was and that he had not figured out the answer, so he didn’t respond. At least his back seemed to have healed somewhat, no longer feeling like it was on fire.

He was still face-down, and the Other was untying his wrists and ankles. Loki sat up and rubbed them, willing the feeling back into them. The restraints had been very tight, and when he was handed a cup of water, he was barely able to hold onto it. He dipped his fingers in the water, wiped the cum off his face, and drank the rest.

“Can’t have you fading out on me. I need you sharp.”

He grinned another feral, humorless smile and unlocked the chain from Loki’s collar, then snapped his fingers again, and two metal posts appeared in the floor, about ten feet apart.

“Stand up.”

Loki decided to try his luck and see what happened. He struck the man’s nose with the heel of his hand and heard it crack, then followed up with a kick to the groin and a punch to the side of his head as he doubled over. The force of the blows would have killed most people. He did not expect it to kill his twin, but he was glad to know Evil Loki could be taken by surprise and could be hurt. He hoped the information would not cost him too dearly.

“You want to take me apart, don’t you, Loki? You’d like that, I can tell. But, you’re not ready yet.”

His double smiled up at him through bloody teeth, waved his hand, and Loki was tied to the posts by his wrists, arms stretched as far as they would go up and out. Another wave of the hand, and his ankles were cuffed and tied to the posts as well. The Other touched his fingers to his nose, and in a few moments, it was back to normal, and the blood simply vanished.

“Still nothing?”

Loki shook his head. He had no idea, other than the obvious fact that he was a twin and probably not imaginary.

“I think we need to ramp it up a little,” said the evil twin, pulling a whip out of the air.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re a sadistic asshole with self-esteem issues.”

“Undeniably. Hel would agree with that assessment. This is going to hurt a lot more than the cane, but I’m sure you already know that.”

The Goddess of Death? Loki grunted to himself, not knowing what to make of that. If what this man wanted was to kill him, he’d had many opportunities. In any case, not much time to think about it. He was about to get the shit whipped out of him, and he needed to steel himself for that.

He wasn’t wrong. Blow after blow landed, decorating his back with perfectly-spaced, bloody stripes. He’d felt it before to a much lesser degree, when he was experimenting with different sexual experiences, but this was very different. Before, it had been an intense feeling of pain mixed with pleasure at the same time, and he had actually enjoyed it. This was just pain—deep, biting, unadulterated pain. He didn’t even have the leather gag to bite down on, and wasn’t able to stop himself from screaming by the fourth time the whip landed. By the time it stopped, he was in and out of a brown haze, his throat hurt, and his eyes refused to focus. Sweat dripped from him like rain, and his hair was soaked with it.

At least, the worst was over, or so he thought, until the Other stepped in front of him and took off his shirt.  _What fresh Hel can this be?_ was the only thing he could think as he gazed at the Loki in front of him through hazy vision. He didn’t remember where he’d heard that expression, but it was probably something Barton had said once. He tried to focus on the figure in front of him, but it wasn’t easy. This man’s muscles were bigger, his definition sharper, and he’d apparently seen plenty of combat, as he had many scars on his torso that he had chosen not to hide.

“Look at me, Loki. You know how deadly handsome you are. Many have told you so, have they not? Tall, strong, perfect skin, flawlessly chiseled face—almost pretty, yes? Nearly irresistible to someone like me.”

“You mean I’m irresistible to a psychopathic narcissist? Of course. But, you? Not so much. Your cruelty makes you look old and hard.”

“And, I was just starting to like you. No matter. Drink.”

He lifted a cup to Loki’s lips and let him drink his fill. He was not able to resist if he’d wanted to, and he drank every drop, studying the face in front of him over the rim of the cup. He could not see what he was missing here and hoped for some clue, some inkling of why this was happening.

Fingers ran down his chest to his groin and back up again, then cupped his face while unexpectedly soft lips kissed his, coaxing his mouth open. It felt like the kiss of a loving master upon the lips of the slave he’d just beaten. There was something in that kiss—longing, sadness, regret—something he couldn’t quite place, but it was real. This Loki was a far worse mess than he’d ever been, even when he was suicidal or under the influence of the Mind Stone. What had happened to this one to make him like this? And, where did he come from?

Circling behind him like a cat playing with an injured mouse, the Other let a hand trail from Loki’s chest slowly around his rib cage to the muscles of his back, then ran a finger down his spine, trailing blood as he went. Loki felt the hard muscle of the Other’s chest press up against him from behind, the cool, dry skin pushing into the hot, bloody stripes.

It was painful, yet strangely soothing, even arousing. He groaned quietly and tried to cut the thought off as soon as it popped into his mind. The wrong part of his Asgardian/Jotunn heritage was making itself known again. Big, calloused hands moved around him to run fingertips down his chest all the way to his pubic hair. They stopped just short of the base of his cock, then moved to the outsides of his thighs, trailing languidly up from his knees to the points of his hips, then back up his chest. He squirmed and moaned and tried to avoid the sensation, but he knew it was fruitless.

“No, no...I  _can’t_ ...please...I’m exhausted. I have nothing left. You’ve beaten it out of me.”

“I doubt that.”

Loki heard a familiar sound behind him—the sound of leather lacings pulling undone—and he froze. That was not really going to happen, was it? Not after that kiss, surely. It had to have meant _something_ —perhaps that this Loki was not all bad?

“ _No_...please don’t. Torture is torture, and I can forgive you for that, but this is  _rape_.”

“Is it? I honestly don’t think you can rape yourself,” he laughed against Loki’s neck.

“And, in any case, what makes you think your forgiveness matters to me? If anything, I embrace your hatred. I need it.”

He ran a finger down Loki’s back between the cheeks of his ass and probed his hole. From the feel of the finger, Loki understood he was about to be raped with his own blood as lubricant. Tears of shame, tears of helpless rage fell from his eyes. Even Thanos had never done  _this_. It was torture, death, and resurrection in a seemingly endless cycle, but never _rape_.

He steadied himself for the worst, knowing it would not only be against his will, but it was also going to be painful. He felt the blunt head of a hard cock press against him, starting to push inside. With only a little blood for lube, one the same size as his was going to hurt, even if he’d been willing, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and humiliation. And, yet, it wasn’t as bad as he expected. He forced himself to relax as the head pushed against the ring of muscle, and it slid inside smoothly.

“See, that wasn’t so bad. I gave it a little magical help, so you won’t feel it until later. And, you _will_ feel it later.”

He continued pushing in until he could go no farther, balls pressing against Loki’s ass, then reached a hand around to grip his semi-erection. As the Other started to move, rubbing against Loki’s prostate, his cock began to respond yet again with a will of its own.

“ _Nononono_ ... please ...you can’t do this...you  _can’t_.”

His cheeks were wet with tears now, but he hardened even as he was being fucked against his will. The hand stroking him was relentless and the cock inside him was dragging against his prostate perfectly, building him towards an orgasm he desperately did not want. The Other’s lips whispered in his ear from behind.

”But, I’ve already done it, haven’t I? _Mmm_ , I have to say you do feel sublime. So tight and warm for me. And, your cock is so hard. You can’t rape the willing.”

“ _Willing_? Cut me loose and I’ll kill you where you stand.”

His voice was thick with emotion.

“Maybe, but I doubt it. Bad timing, anyway. Right now, I’m enjoying this too much to want to die.”

He pulled out slowly and slammed back in hard, increasing his pace and intensity gradually, while his hand fisted Loki’s cock as if it were his own. He knew exactly what to do, how to pull every bit of sensation out of him. The humiliation was unbearable and the tears came no matter how he tried to stop them.

“ _Ah_... _no_.. _._ _stop_. _..please_... _don’t_ ...don’t make me do this.”

It tore from him like his heart tearing out of his chest—screaming, sobbing agony—covering the hand and the floor with ropes of cum, and he slipped into unconsciousness again. As everything browned out, he wished he could’ve done it sooner so he wouldn’t have to remember this.

*****

When he woke this time, he was alone. The collar was back on and he was chained to the floor again. He was dirty, covered in sweat, blood, tears and cum, and his hair hung in wet strings around his face. His back had stopped bleeding, but it hurt—a lot. He might even have pissed himself. it smelled like it, anyway. His eyes burned and his cock and ass both hurt. He sat up and put his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth while he tried to get control of himself.

_All right, get a grip on your emotions and start thinking. You can do this. If Thanos taught you nothing else, it’s that you can endure. And, this isn’t even real damage, is it? Just a little pain and mental torture._

And rape. He’d have to push that back down until later. If he gave it much thought right now, he’d never get control. Endure. Solve the riddle. It was so hard to think when he was so thirsty, though. And then, a thought hit him and he wondered how he could have missed it before; it seemed so obvious now. He assumed Evil Loki could hear him if he spoke.

“The Tesseract—it brought me here because you asked it to, didn’t you? You’re more powerful than I am and you overruled me.”

A large tub of water with a sponge in it appeared within his reach, as did a piece of cloth with a jug of water and bread on it.

_A reward. All right, I’m on the right track. Now what?_

He rinsed himself off and shook his hair out, then sat down again to eat and drink. As soon as he’d finished the water and bread, the rest disappeared, replaced by the looming figure in black. Without any warning, the boot kicked him back down again onto his back and pressed on his throat.

“See, you are capable of thought. Now, I get to pull the rest out of you. This should be fun.”

“But, how—how were you able to use the Tesseract when I had control of it?”

“There’s a Space Stone in every universe, little god. And, they can talk to each other. You didn’t know that, did you?”

Another snap of his fingers and Loki was tied with his back to a single post, his arms stretched high over his head. He was almost calm this time, wondering abstractly what could possibly be coming next. Thanos had dismembered him and killed him repeatedly, he’d just been beaten, whipped, bloodied, and raped, so he failed to see what could be worse than all of that.

The Other held up a metal rod covered in runes, sensuously running his fingers up and down the length.

“Do you know what this is?”

“No.”

Loki did his best to look and sound bored with it all. The Other tapped the rod with his index finger as he held it, and electricity shot from the tip like a little bolt of lightning. Loki had just enough time to register what that meant for him when the tip touched his chest and sparked. He screamed—screamed louder than he had when he was a boy and he’d been gored by a sharp horn that tore through his side. The electrical shock left him wild-eyed and panting.

“Not so bored now, are you, little god? I would have assumed you remembered what electricity felt like, growing up with Thor being your brother.”

“Thor...would never...have done _that_ to me,” he choked out, trying to catch his breath.

“No? Well, you and I had very different childhoods, then.”

Loki felt like that was supposed to be a hint, but he just couldn’t think. Not with the threat of that metal rod over him.

The second time, the rod touched his navel and stayed there a second, and it was even worse. Another scream tore out of him and his eyes lost focus. A five-second pause, then his right thigh, held there for a few seconds. A ten-second pause before his left thigh. There was just long enough pause in between to let terror overwhelm him, and Loki was trembling between each one, unable to control the dread. He had no voice left except a hoarse whisper, and he knew what was coming next. Sweat and fear clung to him like mist in a fog.

“No...please... _not_ _again_...no more...”

“Do you ever tire of hearing yourself beg? I know I don’t.”

The low, wicked laugh was barely audible through the ringing in his ears, and the rod touched his dick and stayed there for an eternity. He felt it before it even sparked. The  _agony_...gods...the agony was nearly as bad as having a limb torn off, and he _knew_ what that felt like. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything but convulse in his restraints, his arm and leg muscles trying to tear themselves from the bone.

When it touched his balls, everything went red just before going black, and he hoped it was merciful Death.

*****

When he woke again, he was back in the collar and on the floor. Surprisingly, there was not too much residual pain from the electrocutions, although his flesh was burned where the rod had touched him. He would heal if he had a little time. There was serious muscle soreness from the convulsions, but it was manageable.

“Are you running out of ideas on how to torture me? Seems like I’ve been here before.”

“Are you ready to kill me yet?”

“I just want you to let me go. I don’t know what happened to make you this...this...broken... _thing_ , but you’re more worthy of pity than hatred. You can make me beg, scream, pass out, cry—whatever you want. You can rape me again. But, you can’t break me. Not now, not ever.”

“Did it ever occur to you that breaking is not what I want from you? Now, I’ll really have to push you. I honestly didn’t want to have to go this far, or think I’d need to, but you’ve made me do it.”

“Why did you bring me here? Surely, not just to torture me. There has to be  _some_ reason.”

“Because I need you to—no, you’re not ready. But, you will be after this. Now, sleep.”

He touched two fingers to Loki’s forehead and blackness took him again, but the second Loki woke, he knew something dark and terrible was about to happen. He was bent over a metal bar at the hips and securely tied with legs apart. His wrists were tied behind his back, his chest resting on a second parallel bar. There was a metal ring lodged behind his teeth, held in place by straps that buckled behind his head so he could not close his mouth. The only movement he was allowed was his head.

In front of him stood the Other, still in black, and three clones, all naked, and all of them were watching him. There was no doubt what was going to happen, and Loki’s head dropped back down, his muscles limp. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could barely breathe or swallow. He was going to be raped again, multiple times, and still had no idea why. The only thing he knew to do was to go inward—to find some shred of focus that could keep him centered. The only thing he had left was to not give this...creature...the satisfaction of seeing him cry or beg this time.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but you pushed me. I have no choice,” the Other repeated.

Loki raised his head, made eye contact, and did not waver. The Other looked away and twitched a hand. Two clones stepped up, one at Loki’s head and the other behind him, both of them stroking themselves to hardness. The one behind him pushed his way in first, with just enough lubrication to move. Loki barely stifled a groan of pain as the clone brutally shoved all the way inside him with one move. Once he was in as far as he could go, the other grabbed Loki’s hair and pushed past the metal ring into his open mouth until he could go no farther. At a nod from Evil Loki, they both set to their tasks as roughly as possible.

Loki closed his eyes and tried not to make a sound as he was ravaged at both ends. Focusing far, far away, back to happy childhood days on Asgard, he bore the pain silently until both clones finished at the same time. Cum dribbled out of his mouth and he could do nothing but bear it. Both pulled out at the same time, and the third clone stepped up behind him. The Other stood in front, his fist twisted in Loki’s hair, and he yanked hard, pulling his head up so their eyes could meet.

“I took you at your word that you’d bite it off if you had the chance, so I had to make certain that didn’t happen. Too bad for you. You look like a wanton whore, with ropes of cum dripping out of your mouth, don’t you? You make me hard just looking at you.”

Loki did not look away as the clone behind him shoved into him even more roughly than the first. The Other rammed his cock all the way to the back of Loki’s throat and stayed there until he heard choking noises, then slowly pulled out just enough to allow a breath. The clone struck a harsh rhythm with his thrusts in time with the Other’s.

“ _Ah...yes.._.my little god. Your mouth feels as divine as your ass. You _should_ have been a whore. You’d be a very rich one.”

He fucked Loki’s throat like a man possessed, going as deep and hard as he could, allowing a breath only every few strokes while the clone matched his rhythm. Loki didn’t make a sound other than gasping for breath, but he could not prevent the tears, after all. There was even more pain than he’d expected, and he could barely breathe. When both of them finished at the same time, the fist in his hair let go, and his head dropped. He was spent and as violated as a man could feel, and he knew the memory of this day would haunt him for the rest of his life, whether he lived one more hour or another four thousand years.

With another wave of his hand, the Other dismissed all the clones and they vanished, along with the ropes and the ring gag. Loki was left in a panting, melted heap in the middle of the floor; fear, pain, anger, and shame consumed him.

“You really, honestly do want to kill me now—finally. Go ahead.”

Energized by rage, Loki shot up off the floor and pinned the man in black to the wall by a forearm across his throat.

“ _WHY_?! Why did you do this?”

“Because I need you to kill me.  _DO IT_! I want you to.”

“ _What_ ?”

He dropped his hand.

“You heard me. Just kill me. Please.”

“What—what are you saying? That all of _this—_ everything—everything you’ve done to me was solely to make me hate you enough to kill you? Why?”

“Because I can’t do it myself and I’m irredeemable and I need to die.  _Can you not see?”_

Tears were streaming down his pale face and he was sobbing, eyes wild.

“I’m a monster. I hate everything I’ve become and I can’t be anything else. Please, just do it. End it for me.”

Loki shook his head in disbelief and confusion at the insanity he was hearing.

“You tortured me. You _raped_ me. You left me with memories that will haunt me until the end of my days. And all because you haven’t the courage to do what is necessary. I’m ashamed that you even look like me. Ashamed that I could ever be mistaken for you, no matter which universe.”

“So, end it for me. Know in your heart that justice was done.”

Loki paused and thought for many long moments.

“No. You wanted me to hate you enough to be cruel? Well, you’ve done it. I won’t kill you. Suffer with the knowledge that Loki of Asgard and the Nine Realms refused to do you the honor of killing you, because _you_ have no honor. Now, let me go, you wretched, contemptible excuse for a god.”

He turned to walk away from the Other and looked over his shoulder.

“Release your hold on my magic.”

Before Loki could react, a long dagger appeared in the other man’s hand and he stabbed up into Loki’s bare torso just below his rib cage, straight through his diaphragm and into his thorax. The Other knew exactly where to strike, the product of a lifetime of combat and war. Loki staggered against the wall, sliding slowly down to the floor, eyes wide in surprise and his breath coming in sharp gasps. He had the random thought of what a beautiful color red his blood was against his bare white skin. He knew the wound was fatal, and could only sit and wait for the life-blood to flow out of him. He truly had not expected that.

“You have no magic right now and you’re dying, Loki. You’ll be dead in less than a minute. Your only chance is to kill me. My death will give you back your power and you can save yourself.”

He dropped the dagger at Loki’s feet and sat down next to him, slumping against the wall. Loki was going into shock and he had to act fast, because he already had barely enough strength to use the dagger. With the last of his energy, he plunged the dagger into the Other’s eye, killing him instantly.

The power began to flow back into him and he put a hand to his wound, small green flames licking into it. Within half an hour, he was able to stand and walk, but that was a very close thing—he’d only just escaped with his life. He stared down at the body at his feet, still scarcely believing it was over.

“Congratulations. You got what you wanted, you despicable lump of flesh.”

He used his magic to clean himself and dress, finding comfort in his familiar green and gold leathers. He knew in his heart that there was not enough magic in the universe to make him feel really clean again. The Tesseract glowed in the center of the room and he walked slowly, painfully towards it, picking it up and caressing it tenderly, like a long-lost lover.

He had endured.

**Author's Note:**

> Title reference: American writer Dorothy Parker was said to have asked that question whenever her doorbell rang.


End file.
